


Get Lucky

by thefudge



Category: Deadpool (2016) RPF, Deadpool (Movieverse), Deadpool - All Media Types
Genre: Age Difference, Deadpool 2 Spoilers, F/M, I should be writing for my thesis, Metal Arm Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-19
Updated: 2018-05-19
Packaged: 2019-05-09 03:15:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14708078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thefudge/pseuds/thefudge
Summary: Deadpool 2 spoilers. Post-movie. When Domino wants something, she usually gets it.





	Get Lucky

**Author's Note:**

> Of course I had to write something. Of-fucking-course.

 

“Hey, old man.”

Domino smiles in his direction, but he doesn’t look up from his task. He is trying to fix the broken metal joints that connect his arm with his shoulder. He’s doing a pretty bad job of it. He doesn’t need to be told he’s old. That doesn’t help him one bit.  

Cable stops for a moment, grunts in exasperation, reaches for the can of beer.

But it’s not there.

Domino is holding it between her fingers. She takes a contemplative sip.

“Do you need help with your arm?” she asks cheerily.

Cable looks up at her. He doesn’t like that young face, those mismatched eyes, that reckless ease she carries around her like a damn perfume.

“Here, let me try,” she insists, putting down the beer.

She steps into his personal space like he’s issued an invitation. She yanks the screwdriver from his hand. He grinds his teeth. He doesn’t want to be a jerk, so he tries to push her off nicely.

“Listen, I don’t think you know what you’re doing.”  

“I don’t have to know, I tend to get it right,” she assures him with another cheeky smile.

“So what, you can just fix bionic arms because you’re _lucky_?” he drawls.

“Believe it or not, that’s how it goes.”

“It doesn’t make sense,” he protests.

Domino shrugs, stepping even closer to him until she’s only a breath away.

“Superpowers don’t, usually.” She rests her fingers on his metal arm, at the juncture where sinew meets zirconium. Shit, she’s actually touching the sore spot. How the hell does she _do_ that?

He’s too tired to fight her off. He lets her tinker with his arm. He’s beginning to think that having her power is probably the best thing in the world. Imagine every little thing going right in your life. He'd laugh, but he’s forgotten how.

He remembers something. Something not so lucky. 

“So, that orphanage…you said you lived there?”

Domino does not pause in her ministrations, but her eyes narrow, a thin line bracketing the corner of her mouth.

“Yeah. That’s why it was like homecoming.”

“Did they do to you what they did to Russell?” he asks without mincing words. Time-traveling makes you a pretty graceless interrogator.

“You mean torture me? Oh, yeah, but it was less painful. I was lucky back then too.”

Cable is happy that place burned down.

“That why you’re so chipper all the damn time?”

Domino pulls back a little and rolls her eyes. “I’m low-key right now. You should’ve seen me five years ago when I won that trip to Paris. Hey, that reminds me, we should all go on a holiday soon.”

“Really? You think that’s what we need right now?” he mutters, staring into his lap.

“You just seem kind of down,” she points out, clinching his arm against his shoulder.

“Yeah, well, I’m never gonna see my family again.”

Domino exhales softly, offering nothing but silence. Nothing else would do. He appreciates that.

“There, all done.”

Cable blinks. She did it. She fixed the weak joints. He flexes his arm. It feels as good as new.

“I, uh…thanks. I owe you one.”

Domino doesn’t move. Cable wonders what she’s waiting for. He’s becoming more aware of her proximity, her scent. She’s practically standing between his legs. She tips his chin up with her fingers.

“That’s great, because I wanted to ask you to have sex.”

He doesn’t really respond at first. He thinks it must be one of her jokes, although he doesn’t know her well enough to distinguish between what she means and what she doesn’t. But he’s expecting her to burst into mean laughter and yell “ _Psyche_! You wish, old man!” It sounds like something she would say.

But Domino’s expression doesn’t waver. Five seconds pass in excruciating silence.

“…the fuck?” he finally wonders out loud.

“Yep. A fuck would be good.”

“Jesus Christ, are you out of your mind?” He doesn’t mean to sound so brusque, but he really isn’t up for mind games. “I could be your fucking father.”

She shakes her head, unfazed. “You’re like what, fifty? I’m close to thirty. Well, I don’t know _exactly_ , never got my birth certificate back. But anyway, I'm not a toddler. And twenty years’ difference isn’t that much.”

“It’s still _a lot_.”

“Do you not like me? Does my body turn you off?” she asks with complete ingenuity. "You can tell me, I won't be mad." Her sloe-eyes regard him with a strange mixture of sweetness and contempt. 

He swallows a little too thickly.

“Shit, you don’t have much a filter, do you?” he dodges uneasily.

“I just go for what I want.”

“And you want _me_?” he asks, incredulous. He’s not being modest. He just knows he’s not what he used to be. He’s a fucking mess, skin sloughing off him like wax, rot and dirt caked deep into his flesh from so much restless drifting, so much pointless killing. He knows he’s a cut above the guys his age, but he’s also much, _much_ worse. He’s a walking corpse.

But Domino nods enthusiastically.

“I’m really into…all of this,” she waves her hand, including all of him in her assessment. “You got a dope fuckboy haircut and a strong jaw. But you’re an old man, so it’s not, like, obnoxious. And I love that you’re grimy and beat up and worn-out. I guess I’m drawn to my opposite. Oh yeah, and that metal arm is pretty tight too.”

Cable flexes the arm without meaning to. He's gripping the table’s edge so hard, he’s sure it’s going to crack. His head throbs. He’s suddenly so goddamn thirsty and she’s a tall glass of ice water, but he might break the glass, or she might throw the water in his face. Or it’s all just fucking unreal.

Domino leans down until her face is level with his. “I want you to do stuff to me with that arm. Stuff like…”

And she whispers in his ear. She whispers all the nasty, filthy, downright illegal shit that she wants him to do to her. Her sweet voice doesn’t falter once in her litany.

She can definitely paint a picture.

 “Fuck…” he trails off inelegantly, eyes half-shut.  

It’s too late. He’s already taken a gulp. He has to drink it all.

His metal arm wraps around her and lifts her off the ground like she weighs no more than his daughter’s teddy bear. The thought sickens him, but it also drives him on.

Domino grins, legs wrapped around his waist. Her teeth are sharp, but her eyes are innocent. It’s a heady combination. He doesn’t know where to start. He squeezes her ass through her pants and she hums in appreciation. She specified she wants him to tear her clothes off, but he’s not ready to give into the frenzy just yet. He’s taking his time, enjoying her in his arms. His metal fingers linger on the curve of her spine, making her shiver, and his lips ghosts over the swell of her breasts, tasting her sweat and that intoxicating perfume of youth and devil-may-care.

Domino purrs against him. She yanks his head up, eyes glittering with impish delight. 

“Just one thing.”

And he thinks, _yeah, this is it, this is where it ends, she’s gonna kick you in the balls and laugh at you for even thinking -_  

“What name should I scream when you’re fucking me senseless? I mean _Cable_ is kind of a mood-killer.”

His knees go a little weak. It takes all his strength to remember his own name. 

“It’s Nathan, sweetheart.”

She rubs her nose against his teasingly.  "Okay, then. I'm Neena." 

 _Neena_. He chants it in his head as he captures her mouth and gives into the frenzy. 

 

 

(when she takes his metal arm and fucks herself with it, he moans “fuck me, baby girl” which is actually a pretty accurate statement) 

 

 

They’re both panting like horses, knocked out on the carpet, their bodies flushed and spent, their senses numb from over-stimulation. She’s got a rash on her bum and some interesting marks around her throat. His metal fingers are slick with her cum and his lip is busted from her teeth. Their clothes are in shreds.

But even so, the whole thing was oddly sweet. The kind of sex that’s almost personal.

She leans her head on his chest which is half flesh, half wiring.

“That was pretty good, wasn’t it?” she asks idly, knowing very well that she knocked his socks off.

“Yeah, I guess I got lucky,” he replies glibly.  She raises her lioness head and grins, pecking him fondly, making him feel lucky indeed.


End file.
